Rincon:
Some spots serve as undeniable proof that our Creator was a surfer. Rincon, the famed half-moon pointbreak near Ventura’s northern county line, is one of them. While its sister points in Santa Barbara are perennially shadowed by the Channel Islands and a stubborn leg of land known as Point Conception, Rincon sits just on the receiving end of the majority of winter swells. It only takes one complete wave to realize why the ‘Con is considered California’s best right pointbreak. If you can luck into a set off the Indicator, race through the section that runs across the mouth of Rincon Creek, connect it to the cove and carve to the freeway (a total distance of about 300 yards), you’ve completed the Iditarod of pointbreak surfing.
Rincon’s location (halfway between Santa Barbara and Ventura) and accessibility (a short walk from an open parking lot, an easy spot to check while zipping by on the freeway), helps make it one of the most crowded winter spots in Southern California. It’s not uncommon to see upwards of 150 maniacs from as far north as Lompoc and as far south as Valencia scrambling for everything that swells on a busy morning. Despite the glut, Rincon is a long, sometimes sectiony wave that tends to distribute the wealth. Unless Tom Curren’s out (who still doesn’t have to hassle for his pick of the litter), the ‘Con is no oligarchy. When all sections are up and running — any winter swell from 3 feet to triple overhead — there are three main takeoff spots.
The Cove:
The queen of the coast’s crown jewel. The more west the swell, the better. The more sand, the better. A flawless section that starts halfway up the point and funnels onto the rocks lining Highway 101. This is where Curren evolved from boy wonder to Superman over a few winters’ time. Everybody wants a piece of the Cove, which, of course, makes it the most frustrating crowdwise. Unless you’re out there in July, during a howling south wind or on the full moon patrol, you’ll never get the cove to yourself.
The Indicator:
Where the big boys surf. The indicator is where the marathon men pull out their longer boards, sit out at the top of the point and try to go the distance. A popular overflow area when the Cove is clogged with longboarders. Although a high-quality wave, the Indicator is the slowest of the trio.
The Rivermouth:
An unpredictable, sometimes polluted, sometimes ultra-hollow section that links the Indicator to the Cove. On a typical swell, a little more than half of the waves that barrel through the Rivermouth end up shutting down. But it’s a great place to roll the dice when the other options are already taken by 200 of your closest friends. Rincon Creek has had chronic pollution problems over the years, but organizations such as Clean Up Rincon Effluent (CURE) have made progress in pinpointing the culprits — the septic tanks connected to the 72 homes on the point — and cleaning up the mess once and for all.
Tarpits:
You’re much more likely to score a perfect s’more than a perfect barrel at Tarpits, but it’s a worthy endeavor if you’re looking for a day or two at the beach. Located at the south end of the Carpinteria State Beach, Tarpits (named after a mountain of petrified tar on the beach that the Chumash used for tools) serves as Carpinteria surfers’ social hub. The wave, an erratic, semi-closed out beach/reefbreak, tends to be best during the rainy season, when sand flows out of the small rivermouth to the south. The uneven reefbreak to the south of Tarpits also can offer a few lined-up lefts during a solid south swell.
The real attraction, of course, is the nearby campground, which offers fire pits, barbecues and enough 14-year-old girls to sell out an Justin Bieber concert. If you’re a grom looking for a summer fling, tell your parents to steer the Winnebago toward Carpinteria State Beach.
Stanley’s:
Most surfers know that the hollow right slide known as Stanley’s — named after the diner in front of the break — was destroyed in 1970 to make room for Highway 101. What most surfers don’t know, however, is that Stanley’s ghost lives. He’s called Offramps, and during a large windswell and medium tide, he offers a quick, hollow little right that siphons off onto a shallow sandbar. Offramps doesn’t compare to its predecessor (or so we’re told) and doesn’t show his face all that often, but he’s worth a visit when the conditions are in alignment. Take the Seacliff Exit from Highway 101, and you’ll be right on top of it.
Oil Piers:
For years, Ventura County surfers flocked to the well-defined sandbar that broke off Arco’s Oil Piers, located a half-mile south of Mussel Shoals. Always glassy, always shapely and always easy to sip on the Lucky Lagers without the overwhelming presence of law enforcement, Oil Piers was the summer lover’s haven for Ventura’s surfing elite — Beach Blanket Bingo without Frankie or Annette. But in 1998, all the summer fun came to an abrupt end. Mobil’s contract with the state of California expired, and company officials were obligated to dismantle the two piers and leave the place as they found it: a shapeless stretch of exposed beach that’s no better than any other lumpy stretch of sand. Oil Piers as we know it is dead, but for a crew of surfers who were fortunate enough to catch it when the “A-frame” was barreling in either direction for days on end, “Oilies” will always bring back warm memories. Man createth, man taketh away.